


Office Romance

by jojotier



Category: Original Work
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Hell, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Orgasm Denial, Sexual Humor, don't look at me this is fic 69 for me, hornjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-16 01:45:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18511405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jojotier/pseuds/jojotier
Summary: I was challenged by my writer's club to write the worst goddamn erotica I could think of, and somehow this was the result. If you're into super exaggerated 50 Shades knock-offs with almost too involved worldbuilding, I guess this is something for you?





	Office Romance

**Author's Note:**

> I want my goddamn money back
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Hell wasn’t really all that bad when all was said and done.

That was probably not something that should be said by most completely ordinary folk. Or else belonged on the back cover of some two dollar paperback at the local Books and Books and Such erotica that took way too many cues from really bad hentai because the author was so scared by the prospect of women being real that they couldn’t jack it to actual human tits. Either way, neither of these things applied to the point of view character of this story, so please disregard the previous sixty or so words. 

The main… hero was certainly a strong word, so maybe not that. Brooding protagonist with a heart of Steele fit the bill better, or so thought one Mormon Gray, simple everyday office demon for the Big Horn himself. 

Sighing, Mormon tapped one cracked claw on his desk, glancing over the reports for the cycle. People just weren’t dying as much as they used to- and Satan had evolved far beyond the need for simple fiddle battles or guitar hero deals to get them. It looked like the big guy was having a big molt soon, and considering the direction the world above had been taking, Mormon could only guess that the new personality that was going to breeze through wasn’t going to be easy to deal with. 

In the cubicle beside him, Ainshbleeyn (the b was silent) moaned in a way that was vaguely sexual, lithe back arching as she stretched out. She lounged, ample chest straining against a thin top that threatened to tear, and had torn, many times before. Ainshbleeyn had the shittiest luck finding shirts that actually fit her, because of the crime she’d committed in life. She’d shoplifted from a JCPennys. 

Also, she had stabbed her husband in their bridal suite seventy-eight times with a butcher’s knife.

“God, you’d think they’d have the decency to get rid of periods down here,” The demonness mumbled, mostly to herself. Unfortunately, Mormon still heard, and as his name implied, he was pretty damn scandalized by it. 

“Keep the shark week talk t’ yerself, ya flighty bimbo.” Mormon said, Brooklyn accent seeping in thick in his words. Which was weird, because he hadn’t actually lived in Brooklyn for more than a year. As it turned out, living in Brooklyn for any period of time just automatically raised one’s chances of being sent to hell. 

“Grow the fuck up, Gray.” Ainshbleyen drawled, flipping her long, ebony locks over her shoulders. She’d actually come down here a blonde, but the big guy had an aesthetic to maintain. “You’re three thousand something now- it’s just a little menstrual blood.”

“It’s still… unseemly.” Mormon said, squaring back his massively cut shoulders and giving the bombshell demon on the other side of the glass separating cubicles a derisive look. “You should know how to act by now. Especially around your Dominant-”

“Want me to slice open your dick.” Ainshbleyen deadpanned, looking bored. “Maybe you’ll have some sympathy if you got blood pouring out of your genitals.”

Mormon tensed, corded neck pulsing much like the shaft of an especially hefty sausage as he turned his head more fully to her. “I don’t need to be spoken to that way. Particularly. By. You.” 

“And yet, I’m here. Speaking to you that way.” Ansibleeyn said flatly, leaning back. “Also, will you drop the whole “Dominant” thing? No one calls themselves that anymore. At most, you have some seniority, but last I checked that isn’t good. Especially since I’m the one who lasted longer topside.” 

Mormon’s muscles tensed further, fists balled up tight, balls fisted up taut, but before he could get up and give her a piece of his mind, the floor began to shake. Every few moments, there was a mighty rattle on the icy floor, causing every breakable goddamn thing in Hell (in which Everything was breakable, for maximum chaos) to shatter into pieces. Shards of glass rained down like fine pieces of silver, spearing through the denizens as quickly and easily as paper. In the cubicle in front of him, one of his coworkers, a telemarketer, took a faceful of glass, tearing into the thousands of eyes that littered the lower half of his face and long, long, slender neck. 

To Mormon’s other side, a squirrely little person with half of their biomass replaced by various fabric items- scarves making up the muscles of their left arm, buttons sewing their ears shut, insert other miscellaneous uncanny shit here- was vibrated apart atom by atom. Little flakes of them fell off. Their stitched closed eyelids flaked off like paint, and their wide, dead eyes slowly melted out of their skull. To Mormon’s back, another girl was covering her face, crying softly. 

Abinsleyn was tearing off the press on nails she had on the middle three fingers of her dominant hand. 

Overhead, the terrible form of one of the foremen arose. The creature was one of Satan’s most beloved, and it showed in the monster’s sheer size. It towered over ten feet tall, red, demonic skin gleaming in the dim lights of the ceiling thousands of miles above. It’s torso was uncannily long, abs straining like a legless centipede against its leathery skin. It’s wings were enough to blot out the light, seven pairs of leathery tracts letting only the dimmest bits of luminosity remain. It’s neon bright eyes lit up the soul that it came into contact with, and the kilometers of thick, curly black hair partially floated in an imitation of a halo around its monstrous face. 

Three incredibly muscular arms came down from the sky, snatching Ainsbhlyeen up. Before anything could be said, the creature’s face seemed to unhinge at the jaw, the top half moving mechanically backward as a trap full of sharp, gleaming teeth, each two feet long, opened. 

Then, the creature spoke in a voice that was way too cutesy for its massive frame. “Hi, Ainshlie…”

“Irukimiatruomiak!” Ainshlbryeen said cheerily, lounging on her monster girlfriend’s massive hand. “Hi baby~ Didn’t think it was time to get picked up yet~”

The overseer (as she would be henceforth known as because both Mormon and the author, who steadfastly refused to type whatever the fuck that name is again) tilted the top half of her head to the side. “It isn’t… but the Master will be coming, soon, and he said I could take you home and….”

Ainshreyn perked up, sitting up in a more suggestive position. “Oh  _ did  _ he now… it’s been too long since we  _ took our leisure…”  _

The overseer coughed politely, a neon pink flush on her neck as she said, “It’s been busy, busy… Too many lawyers keep dying-”

“Oh, I already know that!!” Ainsbhrn pouted, looking up at the giant woman from her thick lashes. “I just want to get fucked silly, you know?”

“...” The overseer flushed harder, voice lowering into something softer, “I know… so let’s go home.”

And they went home, presumably to fuck, but unfortunately for you Mormon was still the main character of the story, and no amount of lesbianism could save it from the hurricane force of what was about to come.

In the quiet that followed Ainsbicurioslyn and her girlfriend to venture off, no one noticed the large double doors at the very front of the infinite room (don’t think about that too hard) slide open. It creaked. It shuddered. It wailed like it was being buttfucked by a Chuck Tingle book title (Buttfucked by My Own Anthropornofied Novel by Chuck Tingle to be exact). Then, the shitty dry ice fog rolled in.

It was the axe bodyspray Mormon could smell before anything else.

Slowly turning his eyes towards the front of the room, his eyes caught on the silhouette of the Devil Himself. 

Once every twenty-five years, the Devil’s form changed to accommodate the landscape of evil in the world above. It was a very tidy system- at the turn of the century, he’d taken the form of a snake oil salesman with all the glib and suave smoothtalking that came with it. In the 50s, he’d taken the form of a wealthy politician with a deceptively kindly face. In the 2000s, he’d turned into a seemingly innocent soldier, frothing at the mouth for war.

Today… today was his most horrible form yet.

The Devil now wore the form of an aggressively heterosexual frat boy.

“YOOOOOOOO what is UP m’dudes?!” The Devil called, slicked back bleach blond hair slid underneath a backward baseball cap. There was confused silence for a moment before the Devil deftly leaped onto a hovering platform above their heads, holding on to one of the cords suspending it there. “Mannnn, tough crowd… I said…”

The Devil’s face contorted, baby face features morphing and twisting as his form inflated like a balloon. His voice was a deafening roar. “What. Is.  **UP.”**

There were half-hearted cheers and terrified, uneasy laughter, and the Devil morphed back to a normal boyish look, seeming pleased. “Like, tubular and shit, dudes. Listen, I’m in a whole ass charitable mood tonight- you got my same hat? So I got to thinking, since y’all down here in Section 696969 have been good sports about the whole eternal damnation for the sins of your forefathers ingrained in your mortal soul thing, you can take the day off! I got Section 420 handling all blaze its goin’ on the upside, and it’s not like we  _ need  _ any more of Westboro down here- have the big guy handle them in purgatory for a bit or some shit. They’ll be super bummed when they get sent down here at the end, hah!”

The workers of hell didn’t have to be told twice. At least half of Mormon’s coworkers had teleported off to other parts of hell before Satan was done speaking, and the others were hurriedly tucking in their extraneous tentacles, tails, extra body parts, parasitic triplets, and more. Even Mormon had to breathe a sigh of relief as he slowly stood up, setting his reports and everchanging magic paperclips aside. 

Then Satan had to ruin it by pointing at Mormon Gray specifically and saying, “Except you. You, I want back with me.” 

A vein popped behind one of Mormon’s eyes, filling half his vision with red. God DAMMIT. He’d wanted to go back to his shitty hovel of a home and suffer quietly and broodingly, gingerly mulling over the fact that whatever bitch sat next to him (he didn’t remember her name, and neither do you) looked kind of like his shitty mother, or something. 

… Look, he didn’t  _ actually  _ have much of a plan, but anything was better than white collar clerical work at this point. Anything.

Everyone was gone instantaneously, fearing for their lives once Mormon Gray was singled out. There would be whispers around Hell- what did he do? Why was the Devil after him? Poor bastard-

But what they didn’t see was the Devil appearing in Gray’s trashed cubicle, grabbing him by the tie and kissing him tenderly. This new form was going to take getting used to, Mormon thought- it was strange to think that now he was tall enough to tower over the Devil, but that was exactly what was happening, as the Devil’s slightly chapped lips mouthed along the thin lines of Mormon’s frozen mouth. When Satan pulled away, it was just by an inch, brimstone hot breath ghosting against Mormon’s as he whispered, “No homo…"

“That’s a lie, and you know it,” Mormon mumbled, eyes raking over the Devil’s new form. Unfortunately, his new body was absolutely ripped- the thin white t-shirt he wore hugged his pecs in just the right way, leading the eyes down to the abs peeking out right where the shirt ended a little too short above the awful khaki shorts Satan wore. 

“Sorry, but the ultimate evil compels me to say it.” The Devil shrugged, and before Mormon could ask what the hell  _ that  _ could ever mean (especially in the philosophical confines of being In Hell Currently, with what was supposed to be the ultimate evil) Satan was back to kissing him, slipping his tongue forcefully into Mormon’s mouth. 

Their tongues battled fiercely for dominance, as they always do in these trashy piece of shit bible fanfictions. The Devil’s hands slowly roamed Mormon’s slight body, one hand curling around a highly sensitive horn and squeezing, gently rubbing the calloused fingertips along the ridges as Mormon groaned into the Devil’s mouth, letting himself be drawn closer in. The Devil continued his onslaught, pressing down against the hard structure as he rubbed circles into Mormon’s lower back, teasing just above his ass (that is, where his ass would have been, if Mormon wasn’t flat as a board).

The Devil nipped Mormon’s lip, juttering his hips against the lower demon’s as Mormon gasped out a strangled breath, flush creeping down his neck. It was unbearably hot in hell at the best of times- now, it was like standing in the sun, feeling the waves of plasma lick at him as the Devil himself slowly worked his horns over. 

Mormon’s hips shifted, rutting against the Devil’s. The Devil huffed out a pleased breath as he kissed along Mormon’s neck, rubbing their clothed meatsticks together and leaning into Mormon’s body. Satan was hot as sin- both in body and in action, slowly, rhythmically rutting against Mormon as he sucked dark blue marks into the demon’s neck. Mormon gasped, cock straining against his slacks as he tilted his head to the side, eyes closing. 

Fumbling, his hand found where the Devil’s cock was also straining against those awful shorts and started to rub, moaning out in ecstasy as-

And then, suddenly, the Devil pulled away. With a shit eating grin on his tanned face, he laughed, turning away. “God, Gray… you’re so cute. You think it’d be that easy? I still haven’t had dinner yet…” 

Mormon, disheveled and frustrated, gave what was totally not a whine. “Just come back here and finish what you started, bastard.”

“No can do- you know the rules!” The Devil shrugged and laughed cruelly, fixing Mormon with a red eyed stare. “This is your punishment, remember?”

Mormon blanched. “... But. You said-”

“I didn’t say anything. You know the rules.” And even as the Devil walked away, Mormon could still hear that deafeningly chilling voice. “I can’t let you cum.”

“This is what you get for tax evasion.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is the only porn I'll ever write, so enjoy I guess?


End file.
